years have gone
yet still I worry –
restless comes
when nights are cold
habits cling
as proof of something
strong enough
my heart
to slow
life is changed
and for a season –
shadows shift
to block the sun
planets drift beyond
my reaching –
as longing waits
the end
for none
who shall know
of living wasted –
of mercies left
with time
to spend
remnants
from another
mother –
when love was chance
to love again
. . .
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
Beautifully spoken …
Thank you, my dear Peter ❤